A man in balloon is lost, drifting along. He sees a man, and calls down
to him.
"Hey, do you know where I am?"
"Yes. You're about 20 feet up in the air."
"You must be an economist"
"Why yes, how did you know?"
"Your answer was technically accurate, but totally useless"
"Well, you must be Rob Malda"
"Hey, how did you know?"
"Because you're a worthless piece of shit, you flaming homo!"
%
Any dick-sucking mouth-breathing fag-feltching loser can come in here and talk
shit as an AC - either fucking contribute to the discussion or shut your face
you choad swallowing pile of intestinal feces or I'll rip your bowels out and
feast on them, then I'll impregnate your girlfriend and wait 7 months then
unwravel her belly button and suck out all the vaginal discharge and feast
upon the baby. I will fornicate your liver, then make you guzzle gallon after
gallon of putrid diarrhea. You will gag on my green logs of asshole mud butter.
Either contribute, talk shit as a registered user, or shut the fuck up.
%
Dear Dr. Fuck,
The other day, when I was pleasuring my anus with a cactus stem, I accidently
cut myself down there and now my dirt box is quite infected. It really hurts
when I poop! What should I do? I've been giving myself daily hydrogen peroxide
enemas, and although the searing pain is exquisite, my cuts don't really seem
to be getting any better. What should I do?
Sincerely,
Bleeding Rectum in Phoenix, AZ
%
Dear Bleeding Rectum,
Cactus stem fetishization has come along way since the "Barrel Cactus Boys"
made it famous in the Tijuana of yesteryear. But it's a dangerous world out
there, and that's why you should always sand down the cactus needles before
sticking them up your ass. Otherwise, you could get rabies, AIDS, or tiny
gnomes that live in your pee-pee hole and yank off your ballhairs while you're
trying to sleep.
If you have been having unsafe sex with a cactus, I suggest you consult with
a physician immediately.
Yours,
Dr. Fuck
%
Every day, fewer and fewer customers enter my store to buy fewer and fewer
books. Why is no one buying books? Are people not interested in literature?
Do people prefer to watch TV, see films, listen to music? I don't know. But
there is one, inescapable truth - Slashdot use is mostly to blame. The
statistics speak for themselves - one in three hours spent reading is spent
on Slashdot. On Slashdot, you can find and download hundreds of dollars
worth of reading material in just minutes. It has the potential to destroy
the publishing industry, from authors, to publishers to stores like my own.
%
So that's my idea - a national blacklist of Slashdot readers.
%
knifefight between linus and rms!
or better known as the
"Penguin Man vs Rabid Crazy Man Battle Royale"
at stake the naming rights to linux
all $$$ goes to the microsoft legal defense fund
%
You, sir, are the biggest loser I've witnessed to date on Slashdot. No one
gives a fuck what your Karma is. No one counts each and every mod point they
receive. I know you're a n00b (I don't care how long you think you've been
reading, your UID is high and your karma-whorries prove you signed up as
soon as you found the site), but please, take this little RPG fantasy you
have going and build your own website with it.
Seriously, I'll take ten links to goatse before I'll listen to your "look at
THIS +5 Insightful comment, and this OTHER comment, rated +1 Insightful, +2
Informative (every troll's dream moderation), +17 Underrated, Karma Bonus +5
(I have excellent Karma everyone!!!11), Friend-of-myself Modifier +5, and
My-only-fan Modifier +3" bullshit. Thank you....oh, and you used that
semi-colon incorrectly after people.
%
CERT SecAD NBSD4536A746
Advisory: Olfactory disturbance during *BSD use
Affected: NetBSD all versions
FreeBSD all versions
OpenBSD all versions
Description: The dead corpse of a *BSD operating system emits a foul,
disgusting smell which reduces the productivity of the users.
Recommended activities: - use nose plugs
- removal of *BSD operating system, replace with
Linux or Windows XP
%
4 Security Advisories (Score:0)
by Anonymous Coward on Saturday February 21, @09:06PM (#8353139)
What a coincedence, one for each BSD user.
%
In case of disaster:
1) Start a riot, and punch people trying to stop you from looting.
2) Run in the street without wearing any pants.
3) Have sex with a mare.
4) ???
5) Profit!
%
Gentoo advocates drive me nuts (Score:2, Insightful)
by Anonymous Coward on 23:34 Saturday 17 May 2003 (#5982372)
In my experience I've found that there exists no Linux problem so small or
trivial that someone won't come along and recommend changing your
distribution as a "fix".
Re:Gentoo advocates drive me nuts (Score:1)
by Anonymous Coward on 0:00 Sunday 18 May 2003 (#5982532)
You know what could fix that attitude problem of yours?
Gentoo.
%
Yes, let's judge everybody according to their ability to follow English
punctuation rules. Surely anyone who has not mastered correct usage of
homonyms, contractions, and possessive pronouns is a WASTE OF LIFE that
should be ignored, like the hobo that they are. Hey look, I used "they" to
refer a singular subject! This means that I have nothing valuable to say.
Please ignore me. Clearly I am inferior to your exquisite manliness. You
deserve to pass your genes to more beautiful women than I, with your bigger,
gramatically correct penis, while I am stuck with ugly women who cannot
punctuate the right way.
%
Did you ever hear of this Greek dude named Socrates? Yeah, he couldn't speak
English. He didn't even know the difference between "there" and "their"!
This means that he is a kook and has useless ideas that all of us should
ignore. And besides, he is like, really old.
%
"Huh? Who's there? What--" Rob said, slurring his words.
Again he felt a tickling on his cheek and opened his eyes. He jerked his
head back.
"Motherfucker!" Rob yelled as his eyes went wide.
ESR's hairy erect penis, thin and crooked and pulsing with each heartbeat,
hovered centimeters from Rob's jaw. His bushy red pubic hair bearded his red
scrotum which hung low between his pale thighs.
"Hi Rob, I just got off the bus from Kansas City and decided to make a
pit-stop in Holland. Hope ya don't mind!" ESR said with a childlike grin.
His drooping orange mustache fluttered as his breath came in gasps.
%
"Motherfucker! I'll fucking kill you!" Rob shouted.
"Now now, Rob, that will never do. You'll suck my penis to erection and then
take it in your sweet little anus until it's time to dump a load of Uncle
Eric's special sauce down your slick throat, and you'll like it!" ESR said.
With this ESR cocked the hammer of his gun and pointed it at Rob's mouth and
began forcing his jaw open with the barrel as he poured the Jaegermeister,
thick and dark and brown, into Rob's mouth. He trickled some onto his bush
and penis for good measure and jammed his thin cock into Rob's mouth. Rob
took it to the hilt.
"That's a good little faggot. You take all of Uncle Eric's junk and you like
it!" Eric said as he began pumping his cock in and out of Rob's mouth. ESR's
bulbous white gut hovered menacingly over Rob's face like a full moon and
his ruddy pubes tickled Rob's nose. The gun barrel wavered at Rob's eyes.
Rob moaned as ESR grunted his pleasures into the back of Rob's throat.
%
"I have with me a funnel, Rob, and you're going to take it in your ass. This
old cock of mine needs a little lube and we're going to pack your rec-room
full of something quite slippery!" ESR said as his eyes grew wide. He shook
his bottle of Jaegermeister again as he helped Rob pull his pants off.
With a pop Eric removed his pulsating cock, slick with spit, from Rob's
hungry mouth as Rob turned over onto all fours, his back arched and ass
swaying in the air. ESR's little orange funnel entered Rob's anus without
complaint as he began pouring the brown fluid. Rob shivered.
"Good boy, Rob. Good boy. Uncle Eric's gonna feel real good in a second.
Oh!" ESR moaned as he rammed his dong home into Rob's familiar rectum.
"Reeeal goooood..."
%
"OK, Rob, I want you to say hello to my little friend!" ESR said with a
maniacal laugh. Rob hissed as he felt something cold and metal begin to
enter his asshole right beside ESR's rigid cock. "What's the barrel of my
.44 feel like up there, Rob?"
%
"Get ready to take my load, boy!" Eric yelled as he jacked his crooked cock
into Rob's mouth. He kept his .44 focused on Rob's forehead as he began
pouring the brown liquor into Rob's mouth. A few drops of the spirit hit
ESR's dick and he lost control. His butt cheeks tightened and his hips
thrust forward and backward like a piston as his scrotum tightened.
"You little fucking Linux faggot, take my load!" ESR shouted at the top of
his lungs. Spurt after spurt of sickly yellow hacker semen erupted from
ESR's straining purple cockhead into Rob's gullet, the Jaeger splashing
Rob's face and mixing with the cum into an infernal homosexual cocktail. Rob
gagged and flailed his arms.
Rob laid gasping and spitting after ESR climbed off of his spent form.
"Thanks there, Robbie. Old Uncle Eric better get the fuck out of hear now
before the cops come. I'm sure someone heard you crying like a little girl!"
ESR said, laughing again.
%
FreeBSD's final Christmas
Outside this frigid tumble-down shack, dry leaves before the wild winter
hurricane fly. Here within, at the corner by the cold hearth rests an empty
stool. A crutch without a master stands perched against the wall. These
forlorn and lonely objects serve as mute reminders of their departed owner,
FreeBSD.
This crutch and vacant stool have become orphans, not unlike the now dead
FreeBSD. No longer will FreeBSD hobble about on its cripple's crutch. Like
the empty hearth, and the vacant stool, FreeBSD lies cold and still.
FreeBSD's corpse, lifeless beneath frozen earth and December snows, will see
no more Christmas cheer. No, there will be no Christmas ever again for
FreeBSD, for FreeBSD is dead.
Goodbye, FreeBSD. The pain of life forever stilled, sleep for all eternity
in that long winter's nap. Fade gently into Earth's frozen bosom where in
dreams even cripples walk and blind men see.
%
0x01: ______________
0x02:< BSD IS DYING >
0x03: --------------
0x04: \ ^__^
0x05: \ (oo)\_______
0x06: (__)\ )\/\
0x07: ||----w |
0x08: || ||
0x09: Lameness filter encountred
0:0A: Reason : perl may be powerful, but it can't
0:0B: Be an operating system.
%
hey asshole
only idiots call the city "frisco".
you wouldn't call L.A. "langeles" or N.Y. "Nork", so stop fucking up the
name of our city.
you'd get the shit beat out of you if you did that.
%
Official Gentoo-Linux-Zealot translator-o-matic
NetBSD rules! Anyway, Gentoo Linux is an interesting new distribution with
some great features. Unfortunately, it has attracted a large number of
clueless wannabes who absolutely MUST advocate Gentoo at every opportunity.
Let's look at the language of these zealots, and find out what it really
means...
"Gentoo makes me so much more productive."
"Although I can't use the box at the moment because it's compiling
something, as it will be for the next five days, it gives me more time to
check out the latest USE flags and potentially unstable optimisation
settings."
"Gentoo is more in the spirit of open source!"
"Apart from Hello World in Pascal at school, I've never written a single
program in my life or contributed to an open source project, yet staring at
endless streams of GCC output whizzing by somehow helps me contribute to
international freedom."
%
NetBSD rules! Anyway, Gentoo Linux is an interesting new distribution with
some great features. Unfortunately, it has attracted a large number of
clueless wannabes who absolutely MUST advocate Gentoo at every opportunity.
Let's look at the language of these zealots, and find out what it really
means...
"I use Gentoo because it's more like the BSDs."
"Last month I tried to install FreeBSD on a well-supported machine, but the
text-based installer scared me off. I've never used a BSD, but the guys on
Slashdot say that it's l33t though, so surely I must be for using Gentoo."
"Heh, my system is soooo much faster after installing Gentoo."
"I've spent hours recompiling Fetchmail, X-Chat, gEdit and thousands of
other programs which spend 99% of their time waiting for user input. Even
though only the kernel and glibc make a significant difference with
optimisations, and RPMs and .debs can be rebuilt with a handful of
commands (AND Red Hat supplies i686 kernel and glibc packages), my box
MUST be faster. It's nothing to do with the fact that I've disabled all
startup services and I'm running BlackBox instead of GNOME or KDE."
"...my Gentoo Linux workstation..."
"...my overclocked AMD eMachines box from PC World, and apart from the
third-grade made-to-break components and dodgy fan..."
%
NetBSD rules! Anyway, Gentoo Linux is an interesting new distribution with
some great features. Unfortunately, it has attracted a large number of
clueless wannabes who absolutely MUST advocate Gentoo at every opportunity.
Let's look at the language of these zealots, and find out what it really
means...
"You Red Hat guys must get sick of dependency hell..."
"I'm too stupid to understand that circular dependencies can be resolved by
specifying BOTH .rpms together on the command line, and that problems hardly
ever occur if one uses proper Red Hat packages instead of mixing SuSE,
Mandrake and Joe's Linux packages together (which the system wasn't
designed for)."
"All the other distros are soooo out of date."
"Constantly upgrading to the latest bleeding-edge untested software makes me
more productive. Never mind the extensive testing and patching that Debian
and Red Hat perform on their packages; I've just emerged the latest GNOME
beta snapshot and compiled with -09 -fomit-instructions, and it only
crashes once every few hours."
%
KDE developers are generally between the ages of 16 and 25, like art made of
lines and squares and the colors white and black. When/if they finally stop
taking government subsidies and get around to getting "real jobs," most of
their salary will be taken in taxes so the socialist government can
subsidize the care and feeding of the next generation of KDE developers,
just like it did for them. A high percentage of KDE developers, during their
mandatory 5 years of government military service, crack from their years of
cultural dullness and flee Europe to become terrorists for the sheer joy to
be found in killing random strangers for no discernible reason.
%
Development strategies are generally determined by whatever light show
happens to be going on at the moment, when one of the developers will leap
up and scream "I WANT IT TO LOOK JUST LIKE THAT" and then straight-arm his
laptop against the wall in an hallucinogenic frenzy before vomiting
copiously, passing out and falling face-down in the middle of the dance
floor. There's no whiteboard, so developers diagram things out in the
puddles of spilt beer, urine and vomit on the floor.
%
GNOME developers rarely live past 25 and prefer "alternative" art -
generally stuff made of feces that's "too edgy" for most people to
"understand" or "like." Core GNOME developers are heavy Ketamine users. The
bodies of GNOME developers can often be found in dumpsters or floating
face-down in any sufficiently large body of water.
%
But when speaking of higher level things like development, one can say, "I
like GNU OSs more than Microsoft ones for writing perl." without a hitch.
That works fine until somebody says, "Huh? What the hell are you talking
about? What new OS?" And your cube-mate interrupts and says, "Hey, listen,
you really don't want to get into this with him." And then the first guy
says, "Get into what? If there's a new OS, I wanna know about it." And then
you start explaining that it's not "new" but "guh-noo," and your cube-mate
rolls his eyes and says, "Christ, did you have to get him started?" and puts
on his headphones and cranks his iPod up really, really loud. And then, just
as the first guy is getting that glassy look in his eyes, right when you're
getting to the part about how "guh-noo" has been around longer than Linux,
somebody else walks by and overhears you in the midst of this little lecture.
As she walks by, she can be overheard muttering, "Oh, poor bastard. Why
didn't somebody warn him about that guy?"
Remember: the purpose of language is to communicate. The instant somebody
starts telling you to use one word instead of another, you're no longer
communicating. You're proselytizing.
%
Think about snoodling with the Sarlaac pit. Read Slashdot. Masturbate to
anime. Email one of the editors hoping they will honor you with a reply. Join
several more dating services - this time, you dont check the (desired -
speaks english) and (desired - literate). You figure you might get a chance
then. Order some fucking crap from Think Geek. Get Linux to boot on a Black
And Decker Appliance. Wish you could afford a new computer. Argue that IDE
is better than SCSI because you cant afford SCSI. Make claims about how
Linux rules. Compile a kernel on your 486SX. Claim to hate windows but use
it for Everquest. Admire Ghyslain's courage in making that wonderful star
wars movie. Officially convert to the Jedi religion. Talk about how cool
Mega Tokyo is. Try and make sure you do your regular 50 story submissions to
Slashdot, all of which get rejected because people who arent fatter than
CowboyNeal can't submit. Fondle shrimpy penis while making a yoda voice and
saying, feel the force, padawan, feeel the foooorce, hurgm. Yes. Yes. When
900 years you reach, a dick half as big you will not have.
All in a days work with a yoda figurine rammed up your ass.
I HAVE A GREASED UP YODA DOLL SHOVED UP MY ASS!
%
I pledge Allegiance to the Doll
of the Greased Up States of Yodarica
and to the Republic for which it shoves,
one nation under Yoda, rectal intrusion,
with anal lube and ass grease for all.
%
roger ebert: mr. lucas, what do you think of natalie portman being open
sourced, naked and petrified?
george lucas: i always knew she was a solid performer and i've always wanted
to carress her smooth butt.
%
ESR COMMENTS FURTHER ON HIS NEWFOUND WEALTH
i think the best part of my newfound riches is this fine collection of
copyrighted undistributable open source naked and petrified
young actresses i keep in my garden! who else, but a rich open source leader
could have the accumulated wealth to afford 50 aibos? one day, i hope to
have enough money to petrify stallman. he would be a handsome reward, indeed!
%
NATALIE: HELLO SMALL CHILD DO YOU YEARN FOR LESBIAN NAKED AND PETRIFIED OPEN
SOURCE COPYRIGHTED UNDISTRIBUTABLE ACTION!!!!
LITTLE GIRL: MY VULVA ACHES TO TASTE PETRIFICATION!
POKEY: NOW YOU WILL BE A OPEN-SOURCE STATUE AS WELL!!!
LITTLE GIRL: BY THE STARS! A STATUE I BE!!
%
NATALIE: UPON STRIKING THE CRANIUM OF THE ITALIANS, THE SMALL MAE LING MAK
STATUE HAS RENDERED THEM INCAPABLE OF ATTACKING!
LITTLE GIRL: BEWARE! SHE IS BEING USED AS A COPYRIGHTED UNDISTRIBUTABLE OPEN
SOURCE NAKED AND PETRIFIED SEXUAL DEVICE BY THE COMMUNIST ITALIANS!!!
MAE LING MAK: IT IS A GREAT JOY! I AM COVERED WITH CLOSED-SOURCE SEMINAL
FLUID!! MY MEMORIES
OF LINUX WORLD EXPO RETURN!!
RMS: YOU SAID YOU WOULD NEVER TELL THEM ABOUT THAT!!!
POKEY: SILENCE, JACKANAPE! I CALL DOWN A PLAUGE OF ENTROPY ON YOU!
RMS: I AM OVERCOME BY ENTROPY, AND PERISH!
LITTLE GIRL: MY SMALL PETRIFIED OPEN SOURCE BODY EXPERIENCES ORGASM!
NATALIE: AS DOES MINE!
MAE LING MAK: OH RMS I HARDLY KNEW YEEE. THE NAKED AND PETRIFIED COPYRIGHTED
OPEN SOURCE ORGASM IS A DELIGHT TO BEHOLD!
%
If I had mod points I'd cut your clit off.
%
Important: It is my duty to report to you, loyal low-threshold readers, of a
very disturbing incident that happened to me last week. I went into subway
at the normal lunch time, but instead of the standard line out the door, the
restaurant was vacant. Normally, the queue doesn't concern me, since the
crew knows enough to make me a footlong Italian BMT with my standard fixin's
and have it ready at 11:30 sharp, on tuesdays. I approached the counter
casually, when two bulky men appeared from each side of the potato chip
display rack. They held me down, and Jared appeared from behind the counter.
He took my preprepared footlong BMT and cracked an evil grin. The manager
grabbed the bottle of italian dressing and lubed up my general ass area.
Jared shoved the footlong Italian BMT repeatedly into my ass, mixing it with
the chucks of feces that were in my bowels, until the fresh crisp veggies
resembled brown spoiled food. I begged him to stop, but little did I know
the torture waiting for me. He took the italian dressing, and squirted it
into my pee hole. Now, it burns when I pee, and it hurts when I sit. I asked
him why he was doing this, and he said that they had tracked me down for my
abuse of the Jared Dispatch system. You see, Jared gets airsick, and his
constant flying over the country has caused him to lose weight due to his
vomiting on planes. Normally, this loss of weight would be a good thing, but
Subway can't actually claim that he lost weight by eating Subway subs. They
told him to put the weight back on and then lose it again by eating subs,
somthing Jared does not want to do.
%
Aaaaahhh! Here it is, another fine Saturday afternoon on the west coast of
the United States, and I am wondering why yuo are still online and have
not yet LOGGED OFF!!!
Wherever yuo are in the world, yuor life would be rendered much saner and
simpler if yuo would but LOG.OFF.
Will yuo do it?
Will yuo take the chance, and plunge yuorself into the three-dimensional
realm?
I beg of yuo.
I implore yuo to consider the joys of three-dimensional interacting.
There are meals to be eaten in the presence of others, cars to be washed
and waxed, neighbors to cheerily call on, ect.ect.
%
I was reading your comment. I found it fairly well built. I read a matrix
spoiler. I don't even watch the trailers because I don't want the plot
screwed. I hate you.
%
I just know you'll come and bitchslap this post... (Score:2, Informative)
...down to -1, Offtopic because you can't handle criticism, michael, but you
know what? I just don't care. This is the last straw. I used to wonder why
all of the trolls would constantly take the piss out of you over all of the
other editors. Sometimes you posted blurbs that had egregious spelling
errors, blatant plugs for Apple products or just outright filled with false
information. I always just put it down to misjudgement and figured that it
wasn't so bad - Slashdot's standards are fairly high compared to other sites.
But godammnit, michael, how hard would it have been to actually read the
fucking article and realise - "Hey! This is a couple of years old! Maybe
this isn't worth posting!" - and this is also a dupe. Isn't that what an
editor's supposed to do? Check the leads people give them to make sure
they're not bullshit ? You get paid to do this, for God's sake, and you're
just not taking it seriously. Not at all. And as soon as anyone points it
out you bitchslap them to shut them up. Who the hell do you think you are?
By the time you read this my subscription will have been cancelled. I'm fed
up, michael. I'm not subsidising this site so you can post this trash.
%
Now, I thought I was reading a simple article about a programming book
review. And here I come across this thread of epic mirth. Somehow you have
single-handedly crafted a finely-tuned piece fun-joy from what was a rather
mundane topic. I just have to page my boss back to the office to see this!
Gather round the water cooler old salts and let me spin a comedic yarn I
saw this day on Slashdot. Using an asterix to finish a sentence we would
have all seen as being finished in a different manner? Well sir, someone
set you up the bomb. You have taken that bomb, added the asterix into the
mix and exploded laugh-shrapnel into Slashdot proper. I couldn't even
scroll down without getting struck in the eye with a piece of your
fun-bomb. Mods, mod this man's excursion into the comedy arena as +5
StopItHurts. Here we sit, emotionally spent and basking in the aftermath of
your comedic genius. Thank you kind sir, thank you.
%
When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think
about Ike I get a hard-on that won't quit.
%
An excellent example of why I never report bugs in open sores projects.
Life is too short to spent any part of it dealing with the perpetually
pissed-off social retards that seem to comprise at least 50% of the
developers.
The typical pattern:
1. Bug submitter tries to decribe problem and provide necessary information
to fix it.
2. Developer either doesn't understand the problem, or (more likely)
pretends not to understand the problem. Implies the submitter is a moron.
Rarely will he have the balls to openly call the submitter stupid, but
he'll imply it repeatedly.
3. Submitter tries to explain problem more clearly.
4. Repeat steps 2 and 3 ad nauseam.
%
Hey PORN SURFERS! We know why you are here - you've just SHOT YOUR BOLT,
and are resting until you can safely THROW ANOTHER ONE OFF without
appearance of TUBE BURN.
%
We, at GAVESCON Ltd., have long recognised the main downfall of THROWING
ONE OFF. That is the horror know as "THE CLEANUP". And so we are very
excited to bring you our new product line. We think you'll be very pleased.
I know I am.
* No more cleaning up, EVER AGAIN.
* No more soap.
* No more old T-Shirts, hidden in the back of the clothes drawer in a
plastic bag.
* No more dirty mouse mats and mice.
* Say goodbye to lube disguised as innocent handcream.
We offer you...
The CleanFreeTM Minature Pony.
Yes, now you can drop a load that's clean as can be, when you shoot it
directly into the rectum of our specially trained Minature Ponies. Our
Minature Ponies are trained from birth, and love to be loved. Once inside
the digestive tract of our minature ponies, your semen is easily digested
and excreted outdoors - no mess, no fuss, 100% Guaranteed.
%
when you go out to your car, i will be in the backseat. i will not let you
know this until you are miles away from home. i will hold a Glock to your
right temple, and tell you to keep your fucking hands on the wheel. i will
direct you at gunpoint to a secluded parking lot behind a failed dot-com's
warehouse.
i will take you out of the car and instruct you to tape your legs together
at the ankles. halfway through, i will tire of your sniveling and blubbering
and pistol-whip you. this will wake you up, and sharpen your mind to the
fact that you are as good as fucked. i will force you to touch your toes and
hog-tie you with cat-5.
then i will cut your clothes off. if my knife slips and cuts you, that's not
my problem. i'll spit on my hand and rub it on my cock, to get it a little
bit slick.
then you will take every millimeter i can give, all at once, and if you
scream i will just laugh and stab you in the leg. i will fuck you as though
you are the object of all my spite and assfucking is the worst punishment i
can give you. i will fuck you until you bleed, and i will bash you on the
head with a rock at the moment when my cum mixes with the oozings from your
tattered colon.
%
When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail. And, REGEX is
one HUGE hammer!
%
It all started when I was a child. I was the victim of sexual abuse
by a deranged, obese, elderly babysitter. This man would babysit for me when
my parents went on long vacations. As soon as they left, my normally cozy
home turned into a sordid den of gay rape and bestiality. The old man, who
by coincidence shared the name Ike with another famous gay man from a
different troll, would act normally for a few hours after my parents
departed. Soon, however, he would ask me to come sit on the sofa with him
and watch television. While we watched the good old sitcoms on television,
he would slowly move his wrinkled old hand onto my leg. I was too small and
too scared to object, and he wouldn't have cared anyway, so I ignored him
and continued to watch the TV. He massage my legs, moving in higher and
higher circles with his warm, delicate touch. Eventually he would come to my
buttocks, where he would slide his weathered hands into my shorts and
continue his massage. At this point it would become very difficult for me to
watch my shows, as he would squeeze my tender young asscheeks while
breathing heavily (I think the sexual excitment presented some problems for
him and his pacemaker). At some point, he would flick off the TV and pull my
pants off, then my shirt. His semi-bald head glistened in the afternoon sun,
and his white hair was matted to his head with his sweat. He would turn me
over, and continue his massage. I didn't look back at him as we would get
angry if I did anything other than staring ahead and pretending that nothing
was happening.
%
Alas; all good things must come to an end, and soon Ike was ready to shoot
his seed deep into my poop chute. As his semen shot forth into the deep, moist
unknown, I moaned "Oh yes!" with such a force that I could have burst through
a brick wall and dispensed sugary beverages such as Kool-aid and Capri-Sun.
His steaming stringy semen oozed its way in reverse through my digestive
system. At this point, Ike's old heart was just about ready to give out, so he
withdrew from me, his deflating tool making a popping noise as it emerged from
my violated ass. He collapsed into a seething heap of ancient pedophile on my
couch, as I masturbated myself to orgasm nearby, my gaping hole still wide
open to the air.
%
Eventually, Ike died of a heart attack. Apparently his morbid
obesity and lack of exercise (except for child molestation) lead to complete
heart faliure, and he kicked the bucket while embedded in the ass of an
eight year old girl a few towns over. I had come to enjoy our sexual
escapades, and I realized that I could never go for normal sex with people
my own age. No, I had to succumb to the pedophilia that invaded the mind of
my friend Ike. On the other hand, these escapades had caused what other
would term as 'severe psychologial problems', but I would term as
'englightenment for moral nihilists'. Do not fear, my friend, as I did not
turn into some sort of teenage wigger wannabe rapper quoting Nietzche and
shoplifting Wriggley's Spearmeante from the local corner store. Instead, I
spent my teenage years at home. At first I watched the same sitcoms that Ike
and I watched when he was still alive, however, the station was soon taken
off the air when they were bought out by the Kool-Aid people. This greatly
irritated me, as I had been busy being raped by Ike when these shows had
been on the first time, so I never got a chance to watch them all. Oh, yes,
I never got a chance to masturbate while imagining the incredible incest in
that second Brady Bunch movie: you remeber that scence, don't you? Where
Greg and Marcia live in the attic, and Greg starts getting hard when he sees
Marcia taking it off behind some sort of rotting camelskin covering
seperating their sides of the bedrooms?
%
I was watching the news in my small shack, on the small TV I had
bought to watch sitcoms on before I realized that broadcast TV is full of
shitty reality shows and useless news like 'Madonna has baby' and
'Terrorists steal planes and hit stuff'. I noted that Halloween was
approaching, and that there were a plethora of anouncements proclaiming
loudly to the world that small children should be looked after, and not
allowed to eat apples and dead tarantulas that people may hand out for fear
of razor blades. They stated that the problem might be paticularly
troublesome this year as many children were forced to trick-or-treat alone,
while their parents protested the idiocy of the reality shows on televesion
and some sort of war in Iraqistan or something. I realized that this
presented the perfect oppurtunity for me: unsupervised children knocking on
my door was as tempting and satisfying as a drink of Kool-aid right before
you die in Death Valley after trying to hike through the whole thing with a
paper cup of water, like that idiot on the Darwin Awards. So I carefully
prepared my candy, if by candy you mean semen-filled pieces of shit that
came out of my ass. The night approached; and I continued my streak of
masturbating furiously, stopping to sample my candy. It wasn't bad, it was
better than those coconut candy pieces of shit that they sell in those damn
preppy expensive chocolate stores. I was in the middle of plunging my cock
into my iron grip when my doorbell rang. I leapt out of bed, like a gay
Batman impersonater on his way to Robin's Anal Virginity Party. With nothing
but kind, happy, child-molesting lust in my eyes, I opened the door to
see... Ike? could it really be Ike?
%
I cannot describe the ecstacy involved in drinking the blood and eating the
internal organs of a small seven year old child who was previously dressed as
my old obese gay manfriend.
%
I needed another way to make her float. I was walking around my basement
when I happened upon a solution: a cardboard box filled with those styrofoam
packing peanuts that the left-wing animal nuts seem to hate when the complain
about how stupid most people are and how, just because they have an IQ
between 75 and 100, they are superior to all those right-wing fundies. Knowing
that the peanut box would float, I carefully made a plan to fulfill my mandate
from Ike. I took the packing peanuts and forced them into the body of the
little girl. I placed her into the box, and filled it with the remaining
packing peanuts. Sticking the box into the back of my van, I set out on an
amazing road trip equaled only by the movie Road Trip. Again, not wishing to
bore you with the details, I arrived at the East Cost with Kool-Aid and dead
girl in hand. Chucking the dead girl into the ocean, I quipped a "Oh, yeah!"
one liner and took a delightful sip of my sugary beverage. If only there had
been a brick wall, I could have burst through it and dispensed beverages in a
manner similar to the metaphorical manner in which Ike's semen did the same
thing many years before.
%
"Nooooooooooooo!" I screamed. Now I had no chance of getting my TV repaired,
and I would never see my sitcoms as the police were likely to find me before
there was another marathon. The sheer hatred for Panasonic and their shoddy
manufacturing rushed through my veins like tasty, refreshing Kool-Aid rushing
down my throat. All I wanted was one thing: To have my vengeance against
Panasonic and the trouble they caused me.
In a few minutes, I was down at the hardware store buying that same
fertilizer that Tim McVeigh used when he wanted to go blow up some other,
non-Panasonic building. As I was packing my truck with the fertilizer, Ike
appeared to me. "Take these blasting caps; thou shalt need them for thy
bombing of the Panasonic." So I stuck them in my van, and I was off to
Panasonic headquarters. A few hours later, I parked my van outside the
Panasonic headquarters. After running off a suitible distance, I detonated
the bomb, taking out all those shoddy TV bastards once and for all.
%
He was standing in the Gnu section, and it seemed these bull yaks were in rut
and ready to mate with the first hairy thing with a hole in its center they
found. Bad luck for RMS and his beard. Just then he felt cloven hooves push
him down...
%
#!HEY LISTEN UP FAGGOTS
posting AC is for fucking QUEEEERS | | / /
"MEN" who want to fuck other "MEN" ( ( |=D ( ( =D
mmmmmmm the sweet taste of BALL SAP | | |@ | | @
can't get ENOUGH can you FAGGOTS??
right over here -- this is your "LOVER" --^^^ ^
and THIS HERE is your ASS about to get FUCKED ------|
FAGSFAGS ho mo FAIRY GA Y! AC= GAY#! !
gay ho mo fa GA y! A C Yo !
gaylord ho mo GG gays A C ur !
gay ho mo ot GA y! AC=GAY eG `
gay QUEER FAIRY GA Y! A C AY$!# .
%
i will pin down your anonymous virtual shoulders against
the ground, nail your e-hands to either side of you, and
take a big analog dump in your mouth.
fucking AC scum. fucking dissing my ASCII... bring yours
to the table you unskilled rodlicker. i'll rape your ass
in 7-bit characters, and your little faggot dog too.
--sa
%
Can you have even one conversation where you don't mention having sex with
a dog?
%
I soon found myself before the board of directors, being asked what I thought
about replacing our older Linux servers with Windows 2000 servers. I answered
truthfully: that I was concerned that such a move might generate concern among
our customers about their privacy. My supervisor considered this thoughtfully
for a second, nodded, and the secretary locked the door of the office. Two of
the directors, with deceptive strength and agility, bound and gagged me. My
memory is somewhat blurry about this part, but I remember having my pants
torn from my waist, and then all of the board members took turns ravaging my
virgin cornhole. The rumors were true: there I was, being screwed by
management because of my mistrust of Microsoft.
In the kind of shock that only comes with a brutal ass-raping, I stumbled
back to my desk, thankfully unaware of the small stream of blood and
man-cheese that had stained my underwear, oozed down my leg and began to
pool in my shoe. To complete my utter humiliation, I was given my pink slip
3 days later, before I had even recovered from my ordeal.
I have always been concerned about Microsoft's security shortcomings, but I
could never have prepared myself for the amount of personal violation that
opposing the conglomerate would bring.
%
I don't know who your "inside connection" is, but whoever it is, they were
smoking the crack pipe when they told you this. Either that or you were
smoking the crack pipe when you posted this message. Either way, somewhere
along the line, a lot of crack was smoked.
%
What I will say to the Linuxists is: Don't worry, give it 50 years and your
operating system will be dead.
%
There was nothing to do except answer the phone when it rang twice a day...
and play Tetris on the 386 running Windows 3.1 on my desk. So I played it a
lot. For hours on end, day in and day out: racking up some pretty impressive
scores, and spending almost entire days in the Tetris Zone.
This went on for about three weeks, until one afternoon I had to put a
particularly intense game on hold to go answer the call of nature. I ambled
into the bathroom, sat down in one of the stalls and was all set to do my
business, until I made a fatal mistake: I looked down...at the floor made out
of thousands and thousands of 1.5" white square tiles.
I swear to god the entire room tilted sideways, and if I hadn't been sitting
down, I would have fallen. I could feel the parts of my brain that had been
doing nothing but tetris pattern recognition for the previous four hours
having a near-meltdown as they looked at this solid mass of blocks and tried
to map tetris shapes onto each of them. For about 15 seconds, it was like
watching a thousand games of tetris played at once, transparently overlaid on
each other. I imagine that the sensation was a little bit like what
epileptics feel: a firestorm of neurons triggering all at once.
As drug experiences go, it had a lot to recommend it, but I have never really
wanted to play Tetris since. Just say no.
%
I hereby nominate you for 'The Most Gratuitous Use Of The Word "Fuck" In
A Slashdot Posting'.
It's very prestigious.
%
HOT DAMN, THE FAGGOTRY IS THICK IN HERE. (Score:0)
by Anonymous Coward on Sunday March 28, @03:52PM (#8695779)
Utterly fucking PENILE.
%
Saying nothing, both of the Linux coders rushed me. Being in such a tense
state, I threw both of them off and made a break for the door. And the
fucking thing wouldn't open. In the follow two seconds that seemed like an
eternity, the door was pushed open my way and two more Linux coders came in.
Upon seeing what was happening, they immediately grabbed me and were joined
by the first two. I was trapped. Then the one guy, who was a dead-ringer for
Rasputin, the mad Russian monk, gazed into my eyes and said in a feminine
voice, "Looks like Mr. Party is gonna get a taste of the real action!" and
cackled insanely.
Cold sweat spurted from the pores on my foreheads and cheeks as I was
dragged by the four stinking, polluted hippies into the same stall their
previous victim was in. Rasputin spoke again, excitement in his voice.
"Thanks for the pizza and beer, now it's time for the weeners and buns!"
%
Rasputin cried out like a little girl in ecstasy. "Oh god, I'd been waiting
for that all night! This party fuckin' roxorz my coxor!"
%
Within thirty seconds I was to my feet and was delivering the most
heart-felt kicks to the guts of the rapist faggot Linux coders. Between me,
my boss, and the two XML developers, we had the gang of four knocked out in
a sloppy, excrement-filled pile of hairy body.
It's now been a month since this horrible incident and I am in regular
therapy with a sexual abuse counselor. In response to the terrible outcome
of this party, my boss toyed with the idea of selling the group off to
another company, sans the four hippies who'd been fired and arrested. After
considerable urging on my part, and very open ear from my boss, the whole
group was dissolved and the Linux coders lost their jobs. Their product was
delayed by a year as my boss began hiring a new development team. We'd found
evidence that the whole group had been involved in the planning of the gang-
bangs and that had it not been for us everyone would have had a "turn" in
the stalls.
If there's one thing we learned from this tragedy is that Linux coders, users,
and advocates are desperate cock-lusting homosexual faggots that can't be
trusted in any situation, let alone a restroom setting. You've been warned.